


The Puck in the Goal

by MeansToOffend (goodmorning)



Series: 31 in 31: NHL Fairy Tales [3]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fairy Tale Retellings, Gen, Los Angeles Kings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 20:24:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12020322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorning/pseuds/MeansToOffend
Summary: “'Whoso beateth this goalie and putteth a puck in this goal, is right wise King born of all Los Angeles.'”





	The Puck in the Goal

When the Archbishop Kopi concluded his morning service, all the nobles of the kingdom of Los Angeles spilled out of its greatest church. It was there and then, in the courtyard, that they were confronted by a sight they had never before seen. The courtyard was iced over, painted as one of the hockey rinks they enjoyed dearly. At one end stood a goal, with posts of stone and netting of gold, and between the posts stood a goalie. He was large, and fierce, and helmed as a knight, and they gasped to see him, for they knew not whence he came.

As the last of the nobles filed into the courtyard, the masked goalie straightened, cleared his throat, and said:

“Whoso beateth this goalie and putteth a puck in this goal, is right wise King born of all Los Angeles.”

And as he spoke, the words etched themselves under the ice, red as blood.

The congregation was in awe of the sight, in fear of the goalie, and impatient to begin, but the Archbishop Kopi forbade them from trying until after the afternoon service, which they had better attend if they knew what was good for them. So they all went home, to retrieve their gear and prepare to face the mysterious man or a chance at the kingdom.

When the nobles poured out of the church the second time, they were attired rather differently than they had been in the morning. Archbishop Kopi’s entire congregation was dressed in their best gear, pads and gloves and helmets and skates shining and new, and they all carried their best sticks, blades curving every which way as they got in line.

Lord Marian of Slovakia was the first in line, and though he could deke with the best of them, he could not get a shot past the mysterious goaltender. It was the same with Sir Alec of the Hills, Sir Tanner son of Pierce, Lord Jordan of Garden-on-River, and Sir Dustin the Brown, and the nobles began to wonder if it would even be possible.

But Lord Jeff Carter, an ennobled merchant from humble beginnings, stepped up next, and the crowd held its collective breath, for he was among the best of them, and surely the masked goalie should be tiring after seeing so many shots. But the knight-helmed man saved all three of his swift shots, and Lord Jeff bowed to him, gracious in defeat.

Lord Jeff’s brother, Sir Drew the Doubter, came next. Though he was not known for his offensive prowess, he was nevertheless an imposing figure, and the crowd hushed once again as he handed his spare sticks off to their young ward. But Sir Drew missed the mark on several shots, and the goalie saved several more, and at last he, too, was forced to admit he could not succeed.

Their ward, young Nick of the Shore, was still standing in line, and though he did not intend to attempt the gauntlet he was unceremoniously shoved forward anyway. Unfortunately, Sir Drew’s stick was not one he was used to, and his moves, though smooth, were unsuccessful.

At last all of the challengers had taken their turns, some of them several times, and all were watching the goalie in bafflement and waiting for someone to challenge again and win. Suddenly, the goalie skated some distance from the goal, corralling a spare puck and skating back to the crease with it on his stick.

The Los Angeles nobility gasped when they realized what was coming. The mysterious goalie got set, just as he had against them, but this time he had a puck on his stick. He tucked it gently between his knees, and waited.

The goal disappeared in a plume of smoke from whence a man emerged, carrying a crown.

“So it was written, so you have witnessed, and so it shall be,” boomed the man, “for I am Anze, most powerful sorcerer in the land.”

The crowd knelt, for they had heard many great tales of Anze’s magic, and watched as he crossed to the goaltender, who removed his helm respectfully before kneeling as well.

Anze placed the crown on his bowed head. “Rise, King Jonathan the Quick, and greet your subjects.”

And Jonathan rose, and swore to rule justly, and all present swore their fealty to him to the end of their days.

**Author's Note:**

> \- This is totally based on the King Arthur "Sword in the Stone" myth, in case it wasn't the clearest.  
> \- Goalies are great.  
> \- Yes, Kopitar is both Merlin and the archbishop because _why not._  
>  \- Was this just an excuse to make their names entertaining? Yes. 100%.


End file.
